The Kill
by Cinnamon Spice A.K.A. Kirby
Summary: Based off 30 Secounds to Mars song The Kill. Spot is walking down the street and comes in contact with Drako. I don't own Drako, my friend does. One Shot Song Fic


The Kill

_What if I wanted to break  
Laugh it all off in your face  
What would you do?  
What if I fell to the floor  
Couldn't take all this anymore  
What would you do, do, do?_

Spot slowly walked down the street, his hands shoved deep into his olive pant pockets, thinking. His red suspenders were like a beacon in the darkness. What he was thinking about wasn't important, what was important was the amount money that he had lost in that stupid poker match. The money he was needed use to pay for his room and board at the Lodging House. The money he was needed to pay for his papes. The money he was going to use to get out of New York.

_Come break me down_

_burry me, bury me_

_I am finished with you_

Drako was lurking in the shadows above a deserted alley, waiting. He had been waiting for several hours without making a sound, without thinking a single thought expect about why he was waiting. His dark brown eyes rose when he heard him. Walking down the street, his hat covering his ice blue eyes and his hands in his ratty old olive green pants. The only way he knew it was really him was from his red suspenders that held his gold tipped cane. Drako got up and started walking ahead of him, making sure he kept up.

_What if I wanted to fight_

_Beg for the rest of my life_

_What would you do?_

_You say you wanted more  
What are you waiting for_

_I'm not running from you_

Spot thought he could sense someone following him but his blue eyes only saw old newspapers in the empty streets. He sighed again before kicking an old rusted can into an alleyway. He didn't plan on coming home that night. He didn't plan on coming home the next night either. He was going to run. Spot didn't know where, and he didn't really care. He just needed to leave. Sure he was the leader of Brooklyn, but that didn't mean anything to him.

_Come break me down_

_Marry me, bury me_

_I am finished with you_

_Look in my eyes_

_You're killing me, killing me_

_All I wanted was you_

Drako dropped down in front of Spot. His dark eyes said 'I'm gonna kill you' and the sinister smile said 'And I'll enjoy it.' "I've been waiting for you for some time now," Drako said, with a very dark, intimidating voice. Spot stopped in his tracks and looked into the dark brown eyes of Drako.

"What do you want?" Spot asked, taking a small step back.

"You dead."

_I tried to be someone else_

_But nothing seemed to change_

_I know now, this is who I really am inside_

_Finally found myself_

_Fighting for a chance_

_I know now, this is who I really am_

Spot stood still, waiting for what he knew wouldn't be a struggle. He had wanted to die for sometime now. He knew that someday, some other punk kid would come and take his place now. He knew he was getting too old to be a newsie. Too old to be doing what he had been doing for several years. He didn't really care if he lived or died anymore. He just wanted to have enough food to eat and a place to sleep at night. But after that poker match, that wouldn't be happening for a while.

_Come break me down_

_Marry me, bury me_

_I am finished with you, you, you_

_Look in my eyes_

_You're killing me, killing me_

_All I wanted was you_

Drako lunged at Spot, who didn't move at all. The switchblade that Drako had pulled out of his boot was in his hand and about to go into Spot. Spot muttered a small prayer before the knife went though his skin, thought his ribs, and into his heart.

_Come, break me down_

_Break me down_

_Break me down_

Spot's eyes fluttered for a moment as his body hit the sidewalk. Drako smirked at him before pulling the knife out of him. He took a handkerchief out of his back pocket and wiped the blood off of it. He looked down at Spot, his blue eyes still open. Blood was still coming out of the wound and seeping though his clothes. Drako smiled and laughed in satisfaction at his 'handy work' before leaving the body on the streets and walking back to his home.

_What if I wanted to break...?_

_What if I…_

_What if I..._


End file.
